


Fire and Iron

by ofwyrmsandguns



Series: Charlie is Aroace, Bill is demi bisexual [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood, Death, Dragons, Gen, Gore, absolute butchering Of latin, bad times all around, sincere lack of effort to use the cannon method of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 14:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15074669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofwyrmsandguns/pseuds/ofwyrmsandguns
Summary: The Dragon Sanctuary is under attack, and magic is doing nothing against the attackers





	Fire and Iron

The sun was setting on a beautiful Autumn day as Charlie zoomed through the amber sky on his trusty Nimbus 2000. It'd been one of his favourite purchases with his own wages, right up there with his own wand and a brand new jacket. Although on days like this, the broom felt the best.

 

He shot through the sky, following the long tail of a Norwegian Ridgeback, as she thrashed it playfully at him. His years as a seeker did him well as he avoided the attacks, and reached out to slap her scales as he passed by, immediately making a sharp turn as she roared in response.

 

Now he was being chased, darting and feinting to avoid being caught by the massive dragon. He laughed heartedly as she missed, time and again, by mere inches. Eventually, she too caught him, chin tapping Charlie on the shoulder before twisting around and angling towards the ground, rapidly losing height, as she always did to avoid immediate tag back, but this time she landed on the ground, heading towards bed. Charlie landed and walked after her.

 

“Had enough Norberta?” He asked playfully. “Alright. Maybe tomorrow then.” He suggested as Norberta curled up in her cave. He headed back towards the 'base' of the sanctuary; an old stone castle hidden in the rough, wild terrain. Immune to dragon fire and ridiculously cosy. One of his co-workers, a woman named Aida, caught up with him as they headed back. She was hauling an empty feed bucket and laughed at the sight of Charlie's broom.

 

“Oh darn it. Have they not eaten you yet? After all the chances you've given them too.” She pouted.

 

“The dragons enjoy it, Aida. Who am I to refuse?” He asked, grinning ear to ear.

 

“You're gonna get yourself killed one day. Possibly today. If Sebby sees you chased by a pack of dragons again I swear he's gonna have a heart attack.” She warned. Sebby was the elderly supervisor who technically no longer worked for the sanctuary, but had never let a little thing like his retirement and no pay checks get in the way of his love. His official title had become 'volunteer grandad' and he lived up to his role superbly.

 

“I'll be fine, Norberta and Sebby love me.” Charlie declared, and Aida chuckled. Norberta was feisty and aggressive at the best of times, but she undoubtedly had a soft spot for Charlie, and one for tag as well.

 

“You're on watch tonight, right?” She asked, looking up at the darkening sky. Charlie suddenly looked more sullen.

 

“Yeah. I just hope the reports are wrong.” He said. They'd heard rumours that non-guild monster hunters had been spotted nearby. They were known for hassling or attacking the dragons and their keepers, but so far they'd been too clueless to do any real damage. 4 oafs with silver tipped iron swords and endless greed were no match for a dragon. Especially one that had been rudely awakened by a sharp object being jabbed into them by a soon-to-be charred corpse.

 

“Has anyone alerted the guild yet?” Aida asked.

 

“I don't think they wanna drag Sorin and Mihai all the way here for a baseless rumour.” Charlie said. Sorin and Mihai were moroi brothers who'd worked for the guild (a self-governing collection of monster hunters dedicated to basic morality in their work) for nearly 200 hundred years. They acted as contacts between the sanctuary and other guild hunters, who were occasionally hired in to get rid of dangerous non-guild hunters or creatures that disturbed the dragons. Rarely did Sorin or Mihai actually pick up a sword themselves.

 

“They're monster hunters. They survive on rumours, and word of mouth. Always have done, always will.” Aida pointed out, and Charlie had to agree. From what little he knew about monster hunters, it seemed just the right words reaching the right ears was enough to get them working.

 

“You're with the hatchlings tonight, right? I'm so jealous.” Charlie whined as they approached the castle. Aida stuck her tongue out and skipped off to the hatchling room. Everyone loved the hatchlings. Abandoned, orphaned, rescued or rejected babies with zero flame control and massive appetites. Everything about them was endearing.

 

Charlie grabbed a quick tea and headed up one of the old towers to keep watch. It had a great vantage point, having been fitted with larger windows since they no longer needed to keep arrows out. Charlie sat and did some knitting, hoping to improve enough to help his mum keep up with demand. As it was he kept dropping stitches, creating buttonholes where there should be none, and having a tension so varied it was difficult to make out one row from the next, but it was fun. And he could think of nothing more relaxing in that moment than knitting and watching the dragons in the fading light.

 

An hour passed in silence, with only the distant roars of dragons being heard, when someone started climbing the stairs. Charlie cursed as he noticed yet another dropped stitch, and set it aside as his supervisor, a man named Pompiliu, entered the room.

 

“Everything alright, Pom?” Charlie asked, noting his look of relief.

 

“Ah, you're already up here. Good. I wasn't sure if you'd still be up for it, given the rumours and everything.” Pom admitted.

 

“A few madmen trying to hurt our dragons doesn't scare me.” Charlie told him simply. “Anyway, when am I getting a shift with the Hatchlings? Aida's been in 3 times this week, its been nearly a fortnight since I was scheduled there.”

 

“It's very high demand. Plus, Cao's really gotten attached to Aida, he won't eat for anyone else.” Pom explained. “You'd know all about that though. How many dragons have you been imprinted on again?”

 

“Seventeen and counting.” Charlie answered with a sense of pride. “It's a gift.”

 

“It's a bloody scheduling nightmare, is what it is. And I've seen you playing tag with some of them. Are you seeking death or just an adrenaline junky, Charlie? Do I need to call a therapist or just hide your broom?”

 

“The dragons and I love it, and no-one else has the guts. They're entertained and exercised, so what's the problem?” Charlie asked.

 

“I'd just rather not write a letter to your mum explaining you'd been killed teasing a horntail. You know, it's just not my favourite afternoon activity.” He dead panned, pulling up a seat by Charlie and, with a wave of his wand, conjured up a book that he scribbled in. “How's 72 hours straight over Halloween for you?” Pom asked. “Lot's of people have booked it off, I can get you in with the hatchlings then, no problem.”

 

Charlie beamed and wiggled with excitement, that was only next week! “Deal. Thanks, Pom.”

 

Pom clapped Charlie on the shoulder and left, sending the tower into silence once more. Hours ticked by and the castle seemed deadly silent as everyone not on watch went to bed. Charlie continued knitting by electric light; the sanctuary had many muggle born, muggle raised or half blood wizards working for them and the benefits of having electricity had been pushed so now they had lights in every watch tower and quick communication devices between this and other sanctuaries around the world. It would make Mr Weasley's day to flick the light switches in the tower as Charlie so often did.

 

Nocturnal dragon species had started prowling now, searching for the food left out by the late night feeders. Charlie smiled at Kilde, the Hebridean Black, as he flew past the window, his gorgeous black scales almost hiding him in the night. But as he passed, something suddenly seemed wrong. He lost air for a moment, and was suddenly flying a lot less steadily, with greater effort required and a considerable tilt. Charlie stood up and moved closer to the window as Kilde let out a dreadful, pained roar and crashed to the ground.

 

Charlie snatched his wand and apparated down to the grounds, some distance from the fallen dragon for his own safety. Instead, he heard voices, indistinct and speaking quickly, but quietly, as they approached Kilde's heaving body. Some held wands, and each had more rudimentary weapons at hand: daggers, knives and swords all tipped with silver. Monster hunters. Charlie pointed his wand at them and yelled “Stupefy!”

 

It hit the nearest one but alerted the rest, who raised their own weapons, some against Kilde, while two pointed wands at Charlie and shouted “Confringo!”

 

Charlie quickly blocked it with protego, but the flash of metal going through Kilde's head, followed by a final, muted roar, alerted him that continuing this fight was pointless. Seething, he apparated away just as the hunters fired another spell at him.

 

The central hall was surrounded by sleeping quarters of the dragonologists, and stood in it Charlie pointed his wand at his throat and cast sonorous. His voice amplified, he spread the news.

 

“Monster hunters are killing the dragons! We need assistance! This is not a drill!” Charlie instructed, ending the charm as people rushed into the hall, pulling robes over pyjamas and knickers, ready to fight. Pompiliu raced over to Charlie, his face stern and concerned. Charlie explained what he saw as everyone else piled out, and another distant roar cried out from the East, followed shortly by another from the North. Vaike, who'd been watching from the West tower, apparated into the hall, her face twisted in hatred.

 

“They killed Siim. Those bastards, they're here.”She informed them, spitting hatred on every word. Charlie's stomach sank, he'd helped hatch Siim, the Estonian Redbelly, and knew he was a vicious fighter. He wouldn't have gone easily, but somehow he'd been bested.

 

“How many are there?” Charlie pondered aloud, before steeling himself for the fight. Already at least 2 dragons had been killed, and like hell was he gonna let any more die.

 

He gathered a group of about 5 keepers and apparated them to where Kilde had been slain, but there was nothing. No hunters, no dragon, no corpses. They'd already moved their takings and were no doubt looking for more. Their position was given away as the keepers heard cries of distress from one of the nearby caves.

 

Charlie lead the charge to the caves, and came upon a bloodbath. Hunters in shiny iron armours reflected by the light emitted by the keeper's wands and sullied by thick dragon blood, were slashing at the Peruvian Vipertooths, each sword effortlessly felling the small dragons, who continued their vicious fight against the hunters. Despite their best efforts, heir teeth just didn't make it through the armour, however. In fact, the dragons seemed more pained by it than the hunters.

 

The light alerted the hunters, who pointed wands at the keepers while continuing to slash at the dragons. The keepers stunned and protected, but the armour just deflected the spells as if they were nothing, while the hunters fired incendio spells at the keepers, hitting one in the face with a scream. They needed a different tactic.

 

Charlie disarmed one instead, which worked much better, with the other keepers taking his lead, although the hunters kept hold of their swords. Charlie surged forwards, and grabbed the hilt of one, punching the hunter in the face as he did so, yanking the sword out of their grip and slashing it at another. The years of stick fights with the twins hadn't prepared him for a fight with a professional however, and while he successfully slashed and felled one hunter, another thrust a dagger up his arm, landing a deep, painful and bleeding cut.

 

Swearing loudly, Charlie tried to hit back, but was beaten to the punch by a fellow keeper, who'd transfigured a rock into a club and smashed the hunter's skull. Now only one was left standing, rooted by three Vipertooths who'd had enough and were instead diving at him, keeping him distracted long enough for the keeper with the club to fell him too. The keepers back-pedalled out, knowing better than to stand in a Vipertooth's lair, while one of the keepers, a person older than Charlie, swore loudly.

 

“3 Vipertooths left! 3! We had 16, I counted them myself this morning!” Xi wailed.

 

“Some might've flown off.” Another tried to comfort xim, but didn't sound convinced themselves. Charlie dragged an unconscious hunter out of the cave, stripping her of her iron armour and casting a binding spell on her, which worked fine now that the armour was gone.

 

“Iron's pretty reflective of magic, isn't it?” One of the younger keepers asked as they pulled another hunter out of the cave, laying him next to the first.

 

“Not this reflective.” Charlie corrected them, pointing his wand at the removed breast plate and said “Incantionem revelio!” Bill had told him about the charm as he used it in his own work, but Charlie hadn't betted on the 'answer' being revealed through ancient runes that glowed across the armour. He quietly cursed not taking the subject at Hogwarts now. He turned to the rest of the group, who'd now laid out the dead and unconscious hunters outside the cave, stripped of their armour, bound, and their weapons held in the keeper's hands.

 

“We need to split up. Warn the others about the armour.” Charlie instructed, turning back to look at the armour. Something was seriously not right; the same property that made iron magic reflective made it impossible to enchant, and the weapons were killing the dragons too easily. Pure skill and numbers couldn't account for it.

 

The other keepers agreed and apparated, or ran, away, leaving Charlie knelt on the ground a small while longer, before he too stood up and apparated away.

 

He'd returned to the castle entrance and ran westwards, towards where Pompiliu and Vaike had headed. 5 minutes of running landed him at the site of a gruesome scene. 4 of the 9 Hungarian Horntails lay dead, deep cuts aggravated by their restless, angry thrashing to fight their assailants deepening the wounds, causing gore to spill out. The other 5 circled overhead, shooting fire indiscriminately at the fighter below. 2 keepers lay unmoving on the floor, while a corpse lay further away, its armour melted onto its body in what seemed like a frantic struggle to escape the molten metal. Vaike and Pom were knelt behind one dragon corpse, Stephanie and Mohammed behind another. A wand appeared over the corpse of a third and fired a bright green spell at Charlie as he ducked under cover with Pom and Vaike.

 

“Charlie?” Pom asked. “What happened to your arm?” Charlie looked down and realised his sleeve was soaked with his blood. Pom cast ferula on the wound.

 

“What happened to your face?” Charlie countered, pointing at a deep gash along Pom's cheek. He muttered something about an arrow and jumped covering his ears, as a confringo spell hit the dead Horntail's plated back. Vaike's eyes were watering as she nursed a badly burnt leg. The were seemingly outmatched and pinned down by the mourning Horntails above. Charlie spied arrows flying out from where the hunters were crouched, as they succeeded in felling another Horntail.

 

“The armour is enchanted.” Charlie told them. “It's deflecting spells. We can't defeat them by firing spells directly at them.”

 

“You can't enchant iron.” Vaike countered, though through gritted teeth.

 

“Well, they've managed it. Somehow.” Charlie said said flatly. Pom suddenly clicked his fingers in a flash of inspiration, and whispered the plan to Charlie and Vaike. Charlie ventured behind the Horntail's head, grabbed Stephanie's attention and swished and flicked his finger at her. Stephanie relayed the plan to Mohammed, who nodded in understanding.

 

Pom counted down from 5, Charlie counting it to Stephanie on his fingers, and on one they all jumped out of hiding and cat 'wingardium leviosa' on the dragon corpse hiding the hunters. It rose 20, 30, 40 feet into the air before being pulled down again with an almighty crash on the hunter's heads. The keepers back-pedalled away, allowing the remaining Horntails to lay among the corpses of their family. Pom and Mohammed checked the pulses of the fallen keepers, Pom shook his head while Mohammed picked up the other and carried them back towards the castle. Stephanie looked to Charlie with fearful determination, but she was unsteady on her feet and turning pale as a red patch by the side of her tattered robes grew larger. Pom pushed her towards Vaike.

 

“Get back to the castle, both of you. No arguments!” Pom demanded, Vaike simply nodded and apparated them both away. Pom and Charlie stood silently for a minute, catching their breaths, when an extremely distinctive roar could be heard not far away. Charlie's eyes widened as he raced towards the source, Pom following behind.

 

The source was the Norwegian Ridgebacks, the grass around their nests flattened and reddened in suspiciously dragon-sized patches, but no corpses were to be found. Charlie knew exactly how many Ridgebacks there should be, he counted them not 6 hours prior. There should be close to 10, but right now he could only spot 4: the boys Eivind, Knut and Trygve, trying to stay behind an injured and ferocious Norberta. She spat fire at her assailant, who deflected them with a shield, approaching closer with a sword drawn and coated in blood. A discarded bow lay on the floor. Charlie acted on instinct, grabbed a rock and threw it at the hunter's head, hitting their helmet with an almighty thunk. Norberta and the boys flew up, but an injury on Norberta's wing caused her issues as she lost more height than she gained with each downbeat.

 

The hunter turned to Charlie, and raced at him with the sword ready to strike. Pom and Charlie scattered, but the swing of the sword caught Pom in the shoulder. Pom shouted out in pain and the hunter kicked him to the ground, before going after Charlie again, diving out of the way of a well aimed fireball from the circling dragons.

 

Charlie faced the hunter, wand outstretched and mind whirling at a hundred miles a minute. He levitated a fallen tree, flinging it at his assailant, but she dodged it like it was nothing. He cast incendio, but the flames just reflected off the armour. How had that hunter's armour melted like that?

 

Norberta lost more height, flying dangerously low to the hunter's sword, but distracted her with a blast of fire, causing the hunter to instead have to block the dragon with her shield. Charlie took the chance to try again with the fallen tree, smacking the woman with a loud 'thud', but she got up again and sprinted at Charlie, sword slashing wildly at him. Charlie barely dodged the swings, the last one slashing through his trouser leg and splattering his blood across the floor, but the pain barely had time to register before more came, this time burning hot and scorching at his face. He fell backwards with a yelp, covering his left half of his face, and spotted Trygve flying back up from a stoop, the hunter desperately trying to throw away her white hot shield that had started dripping at the edges.

 

Trygve had tried to help, but he'd only made matters worse. Charlie lay defenceless and shaking on the floor, watching with dread through one teary eye as the other burned and the hunter held the sword above him, ready to finish him off. He thought of his mum for comfort, oh how she was gonna fuss over his wounds when he returned... but a sudden rush of wind and a surprised scream alerted him that he was not yet dead. Norberta, still shaky and flinging precious blood over the ground, had grabbed the hunter and flew higher and higher, looking like a striking fairy tale dragon, the hapless knight squirming in her claws. Then the knight was gone, flung across the treetops and into the darkness, far far away from where Charlie lay.

 

But now the darkness was coming to him and, before he knew what was happening, he passed out in the grass.

 

///////////////////

 

The castle didn't have on-site healers and was too remote to travel to by muggle transport, too dangerous to travel to by most wizarding transport, so one of the old wings had been designated a hospital wing, manned by whoever was half-decent at episky or ferula and free for the day. Charlie awoke on one of the beds, blearily wondering if he was back at Hogwarts, although he couldn't remember getting a burn this bad as a child.

 

He wiggled his way to a sitting position, careful of the bandages on his arm and leg. Iron cut strange; it couldn't easily be healed by magic and the deep wounds felt like they'd reopen if Charlie moved too quickly. His face was bandaged too; dragon fire burns reacted badly to healing magic, hence why all the dragonologists sported burns and scars.

 

The wing was usually busy, but today it seemed all the more heaving. Some sported burns, many more serious than Charlie's, and some sported cuts, long deep and ugly looking. Charlie had never been one for sitting quietly in the hospital; he'd always wanted to be outside adventuring, and so he quietly slipped out of the bed and made his way to the entrance hall instead.

 

There Charlie spotted, with great relief, Pom, his left arm in a sling and a plaster on his cheek, but otherwise looking healthy and alive, instructing the uninjured or determined keepers on checks, collecting reports and looking flustered. He spotted Charlie and, for once, didn't seem pleased to see him.

 

“You should be in bed.” Pom stated. Charlie shrugged.

 

“That's boring. What's going on here?”

 

“Counting the dragons. We're seeing how many we've lost.” Pom explained. Memories of the mourning Horntails, the pitiful number of Vipertooths left and the fact that Norberta was the sole surviving female Ridgeback haunted Charlie. Pom saw Charlie's face and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It's not as bad as that. We didn't lose a single opaleye or longhorn, and we've barely got any reports back yet.”

 

Something in his tone felt off though, and Charlie stared at him until he relented and answered what was up. “The hatchlings. The hunters broke into the hatchling pen.” Pom took a shaky breath, staring at his clipboard. “No survivors. Dragon or keeper.”

 

Charlie's stomach fell in shock. All the hatchlings, Aida, the new trainees... all dead. Dammit, he could've checked on them! Pom let him have a quiet moment and led Charlie over to the seats instead.

 

“We lost about 10 keepers last night, including those in the hatchling pen. Stephanie and Vaike are alive and recovering. Sorin and Mihai should be turning up later to sort some stuff out, make sure there's no hunters left. So far we've counted there being roughly 24 here last night. Once they saw their leader flung across the treetops the rest of them legged it.” Pom listed, mostly to himself, but after a pause he turned to Charlie and added. “Norberta's fine, needs some TLC and some rest, but I think you're best suited to taking care of her.”

 

Charlie gave him a slight smile in thanks, and noticed the iron armour laid on the floor. “have you figured out how they got that to work yet?” Charlie asked, but Pom shook his head.

 

“We've sent for a professional to figure it out for us. He's really well recommended.” Pom said. “In fact, he should be turning up any minute now.”

 

Pom opened a letter from his pocket and checked it again anxiously. “We don't know if its dangerous to move, a few keepers reported that it hurt the dragons.”

 

“It did.” Charlie agreed. “I saw it.”

 

Just then the fire place burst into bright green flames and a tall figure emerged from it, immediately greeted by one of the keepers nearby, and the figure pulled out a letter from his pocket to show her. This had to be the 'professional', and Charlie's jaw dropped as, in a heartbeat, he recognised the ginger hair, the leather jacket and the heavily scarred face.

 

“Bill?” Charlie asked. “You hired my brother?” Bill turned to see Charlie and almost jumped in shock at the sight of him, waving at his little brother as the keeper he was talking to pointed him towards Pom. Bill stormed over to Pom, waving the letter in his hand.

 

“Fine? That's what you classify as fine?” Bill asked, indicating Charlie's injuries. “He could give me a run for my money on scars now! Mum'll kill you.”

 

“I have been warned about your mum, Mr Weasley.” Pom reassured him, before turning to Charlie with a grin. “You do praise Bill as the greatest curse breaker to ever break curses. I wanna see proof.”

 

Charlie buried the uninjured side of his face in his hand, embarrassed at the thought of Bill knowing how much he gushed over him to his co-workers. Bill chuckled softly, still fuming at the understatement of Charlie's injuries, but amused by Charlie's embarrassment. “Don't worry Charlie, there isn't a single curse breaker in Egypt that doesn't know you're the world's best dragon keeper.” Bill assured him, which only made Charlie bury his face deeper. “What's the curse then?”

 

“Not a curse. We need an enchantment and method checked, but we don't know if it's harmful or cursed. Are you up for it?” Pom asked, indicating the armour laid on the floor. Bill grinned back.

 

“Definitely.” Bill moved over to the armour, Pom following but Charlie remained sat, feeling his wounds on the verge of splitting open again. Bill drew his wand and waved it over the armour, and chanted “Incantanionem revelio”. As before, ancient runes appeared across the armour and Bill set about reading them, and gave an impressed smile. “Clever.”

 

“What did they do then?” Pom asked, hazarding a step closer as if to read the runes himself. Many of the keepers in the hall were now paying rapt attention, wanting to know what could cause such damage to their dragons and friends. “I thought you couldn't enchant iron.”

 

“You can't.” Bill confirmed. “But, you can enchant a layer of non-iron wax on top of it to reflect magic.” He ran his finger across the armour, picking up a layer of wax to show Pom.

 

“That's why that hunter's armour melted on him.” Pom realised. “The wax would've stopped the flames reaching the armour, but not the heat. Any tips on how to deal with it next time, other than aiming Horntails at them?”

 

Bill pondered for a moment, tapping his wand against his fingers, before pointing his wand at the armour and casting “Scourgify.” Unfortunately, the armour reflected it and caused a nearby chandelier to get a well needed damp dust. He pondered again and instead tried “aspero fricare” with a dramatic sideways swing. This time it didn't reflect, and Bill cast “engorgio” at the armour, which now grew as intended, although not by the usual dramatic amount. Bill put his wand away, looking pleased. “Aspero fricare first, then fight.” He summarised, returning to the seats to sit beside Charlie. “Gotta say though, I genuinely though Ember was joking when he said people were enchanting wax. I guess not.”

 

“You've heard of this happening?” Pom asked, sitting on the other side of Charlie.

 

“Just rumours. Apparently, some exceedingly infamous hunters were trialling it. Ember and the guild are not happy, it's only non-guild hunters doing it and it's all for unfair advantages. Like enchanting weapons to pierce deeper, or cause larger wounds than what they would normally cause.” Bill explained.

 

“Must be how they felled so many dragons so quickly.” Charlie mumbled. Bill gave him a gentle half-hug, worried about Charlie's injuries. “Is Ember another guild member?”

 

“No, he's an smithy. One of the best blade smiths around. He's worried the wax will lead people to use shoddy weapons and over-rely on the wax improving them. He's, uh, really into making perfect weapons. Low quality weapons annoy him.” Bill explained. “Anyway, best known user of it is a non-guild hunter named 'Maudi'. Apparently, she's been spotted in Romania recently.” Bill reached into his pocket and pulled out a poster with a stationary photo of a woman on it, but the poster was otherwise blank. Bill folded the poster up again and reopened it to reveal details now written on it in English. “Stopped in the local 'seedy bar' on the way here, and found this.”

 

“She's who tried to kill Norberta.” Charlie confirmed.

 

“Norberta threw her over the treetops though, she's at least injured from it.” Pom assured himself.

 

“Probably dead.” Bill agreed, pointing to the poster's details. “See, says she's a muggle. Couldn't stop the fall.”

 

Charlie wasn't so sure. Norberta had been gravely injured, and the woman seemed to have such fiery determination that not even a fallen tree thrown at her could stop her. Could Norberta have thrown her far enough away to kill her?

 

Only time would tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo I realised once I started writing this just how much I hate JK’s magic system and decided I didn’t want to use it, hence why magic is ineffective.
> 
> I like how in Discworld (in Masquerade I believe? Might’ve been Lords and Ladies) iron is like the antithesis of magic and cannot have magic used against it. Decided to use some of that.
> 
> Some of the aspects I added to this are from my own original story, particularly the monster hunters, guild, and the poster that didn’t have words (the person holding it has to chose the language first before opening it, otherwise the wanted poster is pointless for a profession where people travel the world killing monsters). Also muggles being involved in the magic world cos being born into magic as the only access to it is dull and boring. Sorin, Mihai and Ember are all characters from this other story. Just a fun fact.
> 
> Charlie mentioned this event in my story “Wyrms Are Ace”, jsyk.
> 
> If you liked this story please consider leaving a comment. If you didn’t, consider leaving a comment anyway saying why you didn’t. I’m always seeking validation and/or ways to improve my writing.


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